


body high.

by BriTheSweet



Category: MLAndersen0, Slender Man Mythos
Genre: Biting, Creampie, Fingering, Fondling, Nipple Play, Other, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 05:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15812601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriTheSweet/pseuds/BriTheSweet
Summary: Disclaimer: I, the author, tend to write about vaginal sex since that's what I'm used to and it's what first comes to mind when I think about sex. And to clarify that - while my mind does think that way - I try to keep things gender neutral enough so that people who don't have those parts can still enjoy this. Hope this makes sense.





	body high.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I, the author, tend to write about vaginal sex since that's what I'm used to and it's what first comes to mind when I think about sex. And to clarify that - while my mind does think that way - I try to keep things gender neutral enough so that people who don't have those parts can still enjoy this. Hope this makes sense.

You're in the passenger side of Michael's car, silently nodding off to the lull of rural streets and the background noise that's the radio. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, watching out for any spots of melted snow. It's near the end of winter, where there were still chunks of ice and snow littered about in patches and you can see your breath fade into the air as the setting sun shone down in spots behind dense clouds. However, he's a bit too focused on what's ahead, neglecting to check the fuel gauge―which turned from almost empty, to empty, then came the all-too-familiar sound of an engine sputtering out. It took a couple seconds for it to register with the two of you, glancing at each other and following your eyes toward the fuel gauge.

"Shit..." Michael sighed, full acceptance of the situation at hand showing on his face. "I, uh, I guess we're stuck, unless..." he trailed off, appearing as if he's processing a hundred plans in his head at once. "We did pass a motel a mile or so back. Or, at least, I thought I saw one out of the corner of my eye."

With seemingly no other option, you got out of the car and stepped onto the cold, crunchy ground, shoving your hands into your coat pockets. Michael stood next to you, giving another sigh but also a reassuring smile at you, starting to head back.

And that's how you ended up here. He's correct―there's a motel, admittedly not exactly a big one, it's clearly meant for one-night stops. Maybe a week at best. The owners were a bit on the older side and very welcoming, although they did appear to be the only ones who worked there. So, you both assumed that the motel seemed a little run-down because of short-handed staff. The elderly couple had sympathy, enough of it to give the two of you a free night there and offered a call to the closest tow truck company.

While you're extremely grateful and appreciated the kindness, it didn't stop you from cracking a few jokes at the expense of the motel.

"I feel like, this is, like, a liminal space, as if this is where every corpse from every killer has been dumped," you took note in jest, checking out the chipped paint on the walls and musty curtains.

"It'd explain the smell," Michael quipped, taking notice of the television hanging above the dresser. He turned it on―the volume, fortunately, wasn't deafening, yet loud enough to hear. Skimming through commercials and shows on the buttons below the television, he stumbled across a channel that made you freeze colder than what it's like outside.

_Heavy breathing, moaning, curses said under breaths as two naked bodies were overlapping, one on top and in the lap of the other, who's much bigger than them; moving their hips―_

The entire screen flicked to black, him standing there, also frozen in what you thought was shock. You sure were surprised, your face feeling hot. Your nervous laughter filled the awkward silence that suffocated the room. As you went to speak, not sure of what you could've possibly said but wanting to say something—anything—he shuffled into the room's bathroom. For a minute, you sat on the bed, the really stiff bed you knew would break your back as you slept on it tonight. Taking off your jacket, curiosity got the best of you and you found yourself outside the bathroom door, which was open just a smidge.

You knocked lightly, following it up with, in a voice that sounded softer than you wanted it to be, "Michael?" Pushing the door open slightly, you gave a squeak as a hand grabbed hold of your wrist. A hand bigger than yours, kind and warm yet firm―his.

He used his grip to hold you close, and you instinctively put a hand on his sweater-covered chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. You looked up at him; his honey-colored eyes full of love and wonder, and he had a smile on his face, slightly showing off his sharp teeth that you loved to make fun of but loved regardless. He cupped your face and kissed you, starting it off as gentle, his lips ghosting yours. Once you leaned into it—when you readily received it—is when he pulled away and kissed you again, his lips fully meeting yours, feeling his curl up in a grin. And he kissed you passionately, deeply, like he never wanted the moment to end.

Breaking it off for air, you both pulled away, Michael ruffling his hair.

"Why, why," you rambled, and tried to speak your thoughts with difficulty, as if his kiss made you tipsy, "uh, why's your heart beating fast? A-Are you okay?" you asked, voice mildly concerned and small. He kept quiet, biting his lower lip in response.

Inching over to the sink, which seemed a little clean, but the mirror you looked in was covered in fingerprints and other grime from over the years. You turned on the faucet and splashed lukewarm water on your face. The bathroom wasn't that big—realistically only enough for two people, possibly three but it'd be pushing it—having the sink and a bathtub covered by a plain shower curtain pushed into the wall on your left.

As you're still slightly bent downward, you felt something brush against your back. You straightened up again, slowly but surely, already aware of who's behind you. Fingers crawled up your shirt, making butterflies swirl around in your stomach. Soft kisses trailed the nape of your neck.

"Wh-Why here, of all places?" you asked, shifting in response the sensation of one of his hands cupping your chest, rubbing a thumb over your nipple. You gave a breathy giggle, thinking about the fact that this is happening in a motel bathroom; not the sexiest place to have this happen in.

"Why not? You look so pretty, just look at yourself." You can see yourself in the mirror, with his chin on your shoulder. He blew on your ear, your skin cold from the rather chilly atmosphere in the bathroom and his breathe hot, you had to suppress a whimper.

With a hand still up your shirt, his other trailed down your hip, wrapping around your inner thigh. Bucking a bit from the sensitivity, you could hear a deep chuckle behind you and more kisses on your neck, moving to your shoulder. Michael knew you're melting in his hands and both of you were loving every second of it. Feeling bolder because of this, his hand moved over to the front of your groin, rubbing his hand up and down your clothed crotch.

"Does that feel good, hmm?" his voice rumbled. You nodded, shaking slightly, feeling pressure build up in between your legs.

"I want," is all you can muster, hoping he'd get the message. He did and slipped a hand in your pants.

"Wet already?" Somehow you can practically hear him smirk. He rubbed your wetness through your underwear, enjoying you squirming in his arms. Finally, he slid a finger inside your slit, which made you moan louder than you wanted. "Hey, hey, can't wake the neighbors, huh?" Michael teased.

You wanted to respond with a pretend-glare, knowing full well there's nobody else here. "I can be as loud as I want," you answered, trying to act tough, but who were you kidding? Certainly not the guy who's making you moan like the people in that porno.

"Is that a challenge I hear?" With that, your fate was sealed and his mind made up, sliding two more fingers into you.

"Please, Michael, I– fuck me, please," you pleaded, embarrassed of how you sounded, how needy you were, but goddamn.

"Oh, _him_?" The voice was same yet different. It's a tad darker, serious. Patrick. " _Michael, Michael~_ " he pretended to be you, his impression making himself laugh. "I wanna hear what you sound like moaning _my_ name instead."

Pulling out his fingers, he slid down your pants followed by your underwear. "How you look right now..." Patrick said, trailing off to get a glance at you in the mirror, angled over the sink and staring at him through it. Now he's showing off his sharp teeth fully, sinking them into the back of your shoulder and neck, making you know he's trying to leave hickies. "Fuck, now I can see why he likes to see you so vulnerable and exposed like this."

You noticed how much he's enjoying this by the feeling of a bulge in his pants. "Feels a tad cramped in there," Patrick murmured, acknowledging the tightness as he unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear enough to reveal his length, fully erect.

"Do you want this?" Patrick questioned. "Do you want _me_?"

"Y-Yes..."

He's still for a moment, staring at you and not moving an inch. You knew what he wanted to hear.

"Patrick, I want you, please, fuck–"

Just as earlier, you felt your wrist being grabbed, more forceful this time, and a hand on your hip helping guide you onto his shaft, pressing the tip of his head onto your slit, and then slipping inside you. Your whole body reacted to the sensation with a shiver.

"Say no more," Patrick hissed, feeling himself grow inside of you. "You feel... so fucking nice." He grabbed ahold of your hips and started thrusting, savoring every little whine that escaped your mouth, grunting each time he plunged inside of you. First it's long, deep thrusts, occasionally hitting those spots that made you moan his name in pleasure, to which after a minute he picked up the pace.

He paused for a second, stopping completely, making you groan. "Patrick, why, why d-did you–"

"I'm close," he said, and you could've sworn he growled. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he began slamming into you, aggressively, harder and faster. At this point you didn't care how loud you two were being, you're close yourself. At once, the waves of pleasure hit both of you. You felt his climax first, finishing inside of you and then pulled out, his hot seed spilling on himself as well. You breathed heavily, legs shaking and still reeling from what just happened.

Looking back, you saw Michael—you could tell he's in control now—eyes closed and whimpering. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he let out in rapid succession. "I apologize, I don't, I dunno what..."

You climbed on top of him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Hey, hey," you spoke softly, "it's okay."

"But, all of, that," Michael paused, giving you a once-over, "what I did, _he_ did."

"And it was," you pondered the word choice, "nice? Unexpected, sure, but it was, nice. And fun." You grinned and kissed his forehead.

After what felt like a flash of him picking you up in his arms and heading out of the bathroom onto one of the beds, he flopped on it and got himself comfortable as he could, pulling you on top of him.

"I hope I'm more comfortable than this boulder that they call these beds," Michael joked, stroking your hair as you laid your head on his chest, cuddling him close. Not responding, simply wanting to enjoy the peace, you drifted off to sleep, your cheeks flushed as your worries waited until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song of the same name, "Body High" by Mystery Skulls, you can listen to it [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xed9VGypYyc).  
> Thank you for reading! All comments and kudos are much appreciated.


End file.
